by Lana Axe
The women began choosing their groups and setting off into the woods. The elves would not meet the Na’zorans at the edge of the woods. Instead, they would force the humans to come deep into the forest if they wanted to fight. The archers would be ready to fire as soon as they came within range.
King Domren commanded the troops to wait as the mages rode to the front of the line. The battle mages had been confident they could fire far enough from the tree line to avoid the elves’ arrows. They stopped well away from the forest’s edge to prepare their attack. Ten of the mages formed a circle around the rest and spread their arms wide. Focusing their eyes skyward, the mages began to chant. White magic encompassed the entire party, forming a protective barrier. The battle mages were now free to begin their work.
With great effort, the mages conjured their blasts in groups of four. They touched their palms together, forming a link that concentrated their efforts into a single spell. Half of them chose to create massive fireballs, while others focused on energy blasts. Once their spells were prepared, the shielding mages dropped their protective layer to allow the battle mages to fire. As they sent blast after blast into the forest, the earth began to shake. Limbs were flying through the air as trees were struck, and dirt and debris spewed in every direction.
The elves, who were expecting magefire, clung tightly to the trees. The force of the blasts were much stronger than they had been before, and the archers were unable to return fire. All of their energy was focused on grasping the limbs to stop themselves from falling. Smoke began to rise as parts of the forest caught fire. Energy blasts continued to pound the forest, tearing pits into the earth and toppling trees.
Smoke and dust filled the air as Reylin descended from the trees. Most of the other archers had already climbed down, unable to maintain their grip through the constant waves of magefire. “We should just fire in their direction,” Reylin suggested. “Maybe we’ll hit some of them.”
“No,” Nat replied. “We’re going to need our arrows if they enter the forest. We can’t waste them firing blindly into the smoke.”
“He’s right,” Sal said. “The mages didn’t come within range. I would have seen it from my position.”
“What do we do then, run?” Reylin asked angrily.
“We should press deeper into the forest,” Nat suggested. “They can’t continue this onslaught. Their mages will tire soon enough, and then we can fight the rest of them on our own turf.”
“Agreed,” Sal replied.
Reylin remained silent but nodded his approval. His personal choice would be to unleash as many arrows as possible on the mages, but many elves may be lost in the process.
“Let’s spread out and inform the sword maidens,” Nat said, turning to leave.
Essa was already heading their direction to discuss the situation. “We need to fall back,” she said as she reached Nat.
“That’s what we decided as well,” he said.
With a nod, she went to inform the women. Once the group was together, they marched deeper into the forest, hoping the army would pursue. If their mages ran out of power, the elves would have a fighting chance.
The mages continued pounding the forest relentlessly. Fires were burning throughout the forest, and giant limbs were snapped from the trees. In a show of force, the mages concentrated their fire to uproot a massive conifer which shook the earth as it fell. As the giant roots were ripped from the ground, dirt and rocks flew all around the Na’zoran army. The soldiers raised their arms to shield their eyes from the dust.
Domren signaled the army to move ahead. The mages were beginning to tire and had already been consuming potions to replenish their magical stores. Soon, they would all be useless. Magefire was a powerful weapon, but it had its limits.
Aelryk’s troops moved ahead first. If he could find the elves before his father’s men, perhaps he could negotiate Lisalla’s release. As they moved into the woods, Aelryk could barely make out the figure of Mi’tal riding next to him through the haze of smoke filling the air. The men began to choke and cough on the thick, polluted air. The massive amount of debris on the ground was making passage difficult for the horses. They moved slowly, attempting to take careful steps, but many of them were still tripping and unbalancing their riders.
“We can’t continue like this, my lord,” Mi’tal called to the prince.
Aelryk held up a hand, signaling his men to halt. He knew Mi’tal was right, but his heart ached to continue forward. Somewhere in this forest was Lisalla, assuming she was still alive. “Perhaps I could go on alone and speak with the elves,” he said.
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Mi’tal said, coming closer to the prince. “I don’t think they’re going to be in a talking mood after that attack.”
Sighing, Aelryk said, “You’re probably right.” He looked forward into the forest, hoping that Lisalla was safe and well somewhere among the trees. “Let’s get back to the king.” Turning their horses, the men moved out of the woods.
Domren rode forth as the prince emerged from the trees. “What’s the problem?” he asked impatiently.
“You can’t see an inch in front of your face in there,” he said. “We’ll be slaughtered if we try to follow those elves.”
“If they made it through the smoke, so can you,” the king protested.
“They can smell every branch in those woods. They know it by heart, and they don’t need their eyes to navigate it. Maybe you should learn a thing or two about your enemy.”
Domren glared at the prince. Turning his horse, he rode back to his troops. “General Luca,” he called. “We’ve given them enough to think about for today. Let’s get back to the palace.”
The army began to move out, leaving the elves to their ruined forest. Aelryk took one last look over his shoulder, taking in the destruction. Where once had stood a tall, proud evergreen forest was now a burning pile of rubble. Hoping the destruction had not spread too far into the woods, he led his troops homeward. Once again, he had failed to find Lisalla and bring her to safety. He vowed never to fail her again.
Chapter 46
Fires raged all around as the elves fled deeper into the forest. The smoke was too thick to navigate by sight, but the elven scouts of the Mulberry Clan knew this forest by heart. Only a few hours away, their village lay in ruins. The elven army made its way through the evergreens to a dense deciduous forest. If the Na’zorans were in pursuit, they would have difficulty traversing the thick underbrush of these woods. Only the light-footed elves dared to enter this forest.
At the edge of the woods, they rejoined the small group of elves that had stayed behind. Lisalla was among them, her head bowed and her heart heavy. She had refused to speak or eat since Danna’s death, and she had sworn to escape at the first opportunity. No longer caring whether she survived, she decided that dying alone in the wild would be preferable to a senseless death at the hands of an angry elf. At the very least, she would die knowing she had tried to save herself. She did not intend to die weeping.
“This looks like a good place to stop,” Essa said as they reached a dense grove of trees. “If they’re behind us, we will have the most cover here.”
For the next several hours, scouts came and went as they patrolled each direction in search of the Na’zoran army. There was no indication that they had been followed, and the sun was fading fast. As darkness began to overtake the forest, the elves settled in for the night.
“They must not have been able to make it through the mess they created,” Reylana commented.
“They should be ashamed of themselves for damaging such a beautiful section of forest,” Sal said. “Do these humans have any care for nature?”
“They only care about taking it away from us,” Reylin replied. “They’ll be back soon, and we need more weapons.”
“How do you suggest we get them?” Essa asked.
“We raid more villages and take them away from the Na’zorans.”
“I don’t like that
idea,” Nat said. “They had about fifty mages with them. They could be posted anywhere along the border, and I’d rather not risk losing any more of our kinsmen.”
Those who had been slain in the last battle had been left where they fell. In their hurry to flee the magefire, the elves had not had the chance to carry their bodies into the trees. Many of the fallen lay beneath massive trees that were uprooted by the energy blasts. Nothing could be done for them. The earth itself would have to accept the remains.
“I agree,” Essa said to Nat. “We need weapons, but getting them from Na’zora is too dangerous. We don’t know what they’re planning.”
“We know exactly what they’re planning!” Reylin shouted. “They’re planning to kill all of us and take every inch of the Wildlands for themselves!”
Reylana came to her brother’s side and placed a hand on his shoulder. “There’s no need to get angry.” Her voice was calm and kind, but did little to soothe his temper.
“Your friends here are ready to give up. They want to hide in the woods and wait until the king dies so they can kiss the prince’s ass.”
“That prince is ten times the man you’ll ever be!” A voice shouted from the darkness. Lisalla had once again been tethered to a tree. She could no longer contain her hatred for Reylin.
“Speak again and I will shove a rock in your mouth!” Reylana shouted. “You have no idea what my brother has suffered at the hands of these men. Our parents were murdered by your prince’s father, so don’t presume to know what kind of man the prince is. A dog does as its master commands!”
Lisalla did not reply. Aelryk was a far cry from his father, that much was certain. Though she did not know him, she had heard the words of his servant promising to make peace with the elves. In her heart, she knew the prince to be wise and fair.
“We aren’t giving up,” Essa said, “but I refuse to lead this army into a massacre. They probably expect us to run over and attack them. They’ll be ready for it.”
“We should wait and send more scouts to patrol the area,” Nat suggested. “In the meantime, we can focus on crafting new arrows and making repairs to our weapons.”
“That’s a good idea,” Sal replied.
“Agreed,” Essa said. “We need to prepare ourselves for the next attack. We will need hundreds of arrows crafted. The next time we’re attacked, we may have to use all of them on those mages.”
“We would have done better in this battle if that damned half-breed rune carver had joined us,” Reylana spat.
“So that’s it then?” Reylin interrupted. “We just sit here and wait?”
“You don’t have to sit,” Nat answered. “We need you to help scout the area.” He didn’t understand Reylin’s frustration.
“Shut up!” Reylin shouted. “No one was asking you. You’re just some little fool we picked up. Your opinion is worth less than shit!”
“Reylin, please,” Reylana said, attempting to soothe her brother. “Come and walk with me,” she said. Taking Reylin’s arm, she led him away from the others. Glancing back over her shoulder, she sighed as she looked at Nat. He had been a wise leader and a brave warrior, and she didn’t want her brother to continue insulting him. She hoped he would calm down after he had a little time to clear his head.
“After everything I’ve done for them, they just replace me,” Reylin said.
“They haven’t replaced you,” Reylana replied. “The army has grown, and other clans have to have their say. That’s all it is, Reylin.”
“They don’t listen to me at all anymore. I’m nothing to them.” He took a seat on a fallen log. “They’re going to let the Na’zorans run them out of the Wildlands. We’ll have to hide across the river like the Sycamore Clan.”
“That won’t happen,” she promised. “Not while I’m alive, at least.” She sat next to her brother on the log and placed a hand on his back. “You are a valuable member of our army,” she began. “Who knows where we’d be if it wasn’t for your leadership in the beginning.”
“The others don’t see it that way,” he said. “From now on, I’m going to do things my way whether anyone likes it or not. No one has to follow me.”
“Get some rest,” Reylana suggested. “I think we’re all exhausted.” She rose, leaving her brother alone with his thoughts. Heading for one of the campfires, she happened to pass Lisalla. She paused and looked at the woman as she sat motionless on the cold ground. “I’m getting something to eat. Do you want anything?”
Lisalla looked away from her and did not speak.
“You haven’t eaten since your maid was killed,” Reylana said. “Are you trying to follow her in death?”
Lisalla looked up at Reylana, her eyes cold. “What does it matter now?”
“I’ll bring you some food, and you will eat it. If you don’t, I’ll shove it down your throat. We need you alive.”
“Why?” Lisalla asked. “If the prince is like his father, he won’t care whether I’m released.”
“No, but the king of Ra’jhou might care.” Reylana shrugged and continued to the campfire.
Lisalla remained silent and stared into the darkness. The moon glowed brightly overhead, and the chill of the night made her shiver. Fighting back tears, she thought of Danna and the days they had spent discussing frivolous matters such as weddings and shoes. Danna had deserved more out of life, and Lisalla had many regrets. If only she had found Danna a husband in Ra’jhou, she would still be alive. Lisalla could have easily traveled without her.
She cursed her father for sending her through a war zone. He must have known what was happening, but he did nothing to protect his daughter. What was he doing now? Would he make any attempt to save her? The uncertainty weighed heavily on her mind.
Closing her eyes, she wondered if anyone would care if she died. Perhaps Reylin or one of the others would murder her and leave her body lying in the woods until beasts scattered her to pieces and time claimed the rest. It didn’t seem a fitting end for a princess, but that was her reality. Aelryk would find a new bride, and she would be forgotten. Her life had no purpose, and no one would mourn her passing. Unable to contain her grief, she wept softly, her warm tears splashing against her cold flesh. Winter’s wind swept over her, and she welcomed its cold embrace.
Chapter 47
Lying on the soft bed in Master Eldon’s tower, Yori awoke just before dawn. His habit of waking early had not left him, despite being far from home. With no reason to get out of bed at this hour, he lay still, staring up at the ceiling. It was covered in wooden tiles, each one delicately carved into a different shape. Some resembled leaves or vines while others appeared to be a random geometric shape. Yori assumed they must be magical symbols of some sort, but he was unfamiliar with their meaning.
Out of nowhere, Master Eldon suddenly burst into the dark room. “I’ve got it!” he exclaimed.
Startled, Yori rolled over too quickly, not realizing he was so near the edge of the bed. He crashed onto the floor in an undignified position.
“Don’t just lay there,” Eldon scolded. “We’ve got work to do!” He spun around and disappeared into the hallway.
Picking himself up from the floor, Yori groped for his clothes in the darkness. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and followed the white-haired elf down the stairs. Yori could have sworn he heard cheerful humming. Never before had he seen Eldon so excited. As they descended the stairs, the old elf continued to glance at Yori over his shoulder, grinning like a mischievous child.
As they reached the ground floor, Eldon rushed to his desk. Grabbing a scroll in his hand, he said, “Silver is the answer. I’ve found it right here.” He pointed to a passage on the scroll, which Yori struggled to read. Obviously he was taking too long, and Eldon grew impatient. Tossing the scroll back down on the desk, he said, “Silver can hold the power you need.”
Ripping open the front door, he marched down the street to his shop. Yori trailed behind him, still unsure of what he was talking about. He knew better
than to question the sorcerer. He had already learned that they were easily offended and had no desire to anger his teacher.
As Yori arrived in the shop, Eldon was already digging through a wooden chest. “Here,” he called to Yori. “Try this on for size.” He tossed Yori a shining silver ring.
Yori slipped the cold metal band around his finger and immediately felt a surge of discomfort. A spark erupted on the surface of his hand, causing him to jump back. Frantically, he pulled the ring from his finger and dropped it onto the ground.
Eldon laughed hysterically, his hand holding his stomach. “I couldn’t resist,” he said through his laughter.
Yori stared at the elf, wondering if he’d lost his mind.
“Give it to me,” Eldon said. “I’ll remove my imprint so you can wear it.”
With great care, Yori retrieved the ring from the ground. He handed it back to Master Eldon, who squeezed it tightly between both hands. In the blink of an eye, the enchantment was removed, and the ring was safe for Yori to use.
“Now you can see if this will work,” Eldon said, handing the ring back to Yori.
“What do I do with it?” he asked.
“Stones of the purple variety add extra power to items which can greatly benefit a sorcerer. You, unfortunately, are not a sorcerer. Your tiny mind can’t possibly hope to wield such power, so we must settle for the bare minimum.”
Yori stared blankly at him for a moment. “I’m afraid I don’t follow,” he said.
“Of course you don’t,” Eldon replied with pity. “Silver can hold a power enhancing spell that should be safe for you to use. We can’t add a purple stone, of course, because it would probably kill you. However, I believe you can etch runes that will enhance your power. Give it a try.” The old elf smiled triumphantly. All of his studying on Yori’s behalf was finally about to pay off. This was his solution, and now it was up to Yori to succeed or fail.